I'm Cool, I'm Gay
by Charlie Quinn
Summary: Josie and the Pussycats.


AUTHOR: Charlie  
EMAIL:   
FANDOM: DuJour, the boyband in 'Josie and the Pussycats'  
RATING: PG  
PAIRING: Marco/Travis  
CATEGORY: First time, satire, part of the mid-year mirth challenge  
SUMMARY: Marco has a secret admirer.  
DISCLAIMER: DuJour, in the world in which they exist, belong to MegaRecords. The movie belongs to Universal, though. I mean no harm. If it weren't patently obvious DuJour weren't sleeping with each other, their number one single wouldn't have been "Backdoor Lover".  
NOTES: DuJour are a pretendy boyband in a movie about a pretendy girlband. See for more information. I also read a bit of BSB and NSync slash in order to prepare for this. I know everyone's raving about it, but I must have gone to the wrong places, because what I read was fucking awful. So, this, in essence, is satirising bad boyband slash.  
ADDITIONAL BIT OF FRENCH NOTE: I translated using Babel Fish, do it's very likely wrong.

Another dawn, another day in the hectic life of DuJour.  
Marco was the first to wake up, and he spent the best part of an hour in the bathroom, fiddling with his goatee. Too much off the sides and it would become a soul patch. Too little, and it was a beard. He was only twenty-five, after all. Beards were for old people. Beards were for skanky people, like Tom Hanks in that movie. Beards would give Bootsie, his pet pug dog, stubble rash on his tongue when he licked Marco's face.  
And that wouldn't do at all.  
After the morning ritual, Marco waltzed out into his fifty-sixth floor hotel room, with the harbour view. If he looked carefully out of the window, he could almost see the hordes of screaming fans waiting for him - not for Travis, Les or DJD - just him.  
He turned around, and with a start, realised someone had been in his room. And not only that, they'd left something.  
Sitting on his bed, plain as day, was a carefully wrapped package, complete with a card; his name carefully printed on the front of the envelope.  
"Huh," he said, before ripping off the paper. Inside was one of DuJour's "Around the World" tour Limited Edition Commemorative Coke cans. These were infuriating, as the picture had been taken before Marco decided to 'harden up' by growing his goatee.  
His chin on the side of the can was decidedly naked.  
But someone had taken the time to carefully draw in Marco's goatee on this can. He felt touched. He then ripped open the card to find out which of his crazy fans had been so bold before he called security on her stalking ass.  
The card had a heart on the front and was pretty soppy, the usual kind of crap his fans gave him. The message inside was simple, although Marco didn't  
understand it - "Je vous aime". It was signed "Your secret admirer."

"Yo, Wyatt, this is wack!" Marco exclaimed as he joined the rest of the band, along with their manager, Wyatt, in the hotel restaurant for breakfast.  
Wyatt raised an eyebrow. "What?" he asked, in his BBC English.  
"Some chick got in to my room this morning. I not be standing for that stalking shit," Marco waved his finger in Wyatt's face.  
DJD stood up. "Yo, y'know what else is wack? Your stupid Bootsie pissed all over my microphone. Again."  
"Well, maybe if you didn't kick her."  
Les, the sensitive, day dreaming member of the band, spoke up. "DuJour means respect," he said, before quieting down again with a self satisfied smile on his face.  
"Yes, thank you very much for yet another pearl of wisdom, Les," Wyatt said dryly, rolling his eyes.  
Travis looked up. "Do you think we could have the day off today?"  
"Word, that be a wicked idea," Marco agreed. "I gots to get me another tattoo."  
"Another one?" sighed Wyatt.  
"Wyatt, I have to look cool!" Marco whined.  
"You are not black and you are not Axl Rose. Think about that," Wyatt said pointedly and unflipped his mobile phone, organising the boys' day off.  
"I like your tattoos," Travis leant over and told Marco.  
"Well, I like your top hat," he replied.  
"DuJour means fashion," Les said proudly.  
DJD glanced sideways at Les. "Yo, DuJour means a lot of things, doesn't it?"  
"I thought it meant 'of today'," said Travis.  
The rest of the band contemplated this. "Serious?" asked DJD.  
"Yup," Travis nodded. "It's French."  
Marco looked at Travis with new respect. "I never knew you were so smart!" he exclaimed.  
"Well, I am the only one in the group who finished junior year," Travis said, somewhat smugly.  
"Yeah, well, you don't have to get such a big head about it," Marco grumbled.  
"DuJour means pride," Les interjected.  
And that comment effectively ended breakfast du jour.

Travis took off after Marco. "So what are you gonna do with your day?" he asked.  
Marco made a face. "I was gonna get another tatt, but we're shooting the 'Don't Tell Your Poppa' video next week and it'll be all icky and scabby."  
Travis was in silent contemplation for a few minutes.  
"Do you wanna go to the mall?" he asked.  
Marco shrugged. "Sure. I just have to get my bandanna out of my room."   
While he did that, Travis fidgeted in the hall. He was torn. One half of him was desperately hoping that Marco would work out it was him who had left the gift  
and card. The other half was terrified as to what he would to when he found out.  
It wasn't as if he was scared of Marco. Travis knew as well as anyone else that his tough guy act was just that - an act. The screaming fans who thought that  
Marco had probably killed someone hadn't been there when he'd gotten his first tattoo, crying into Travis's feather boa and yelling for his mom.  
And they hadn't been there when the two of them had stayed up all night writing a song for the new album - "Backdoor Lover". Marco had to feel it too, Travis told himself. That song wasn't just a coincidence.  
After all, they had written "Best Friend Band" together, and that subtly spoke volumes about their relationship.  
Marco stuck his head out of the room. "Yo, do think I should take Dr. Zaius with us?" He held up the pet monkey, who screeched loudly in Travis' face.  
"Uh, maybe you should leave the Doctor here," he said.  
Marco patted the monkey fondly. "You're right, he's going through a bad habit at the moment."  
"What's he doing?"  
"Just humping everything in sight. I think its hormones. He jumped the bones of the Les doll last night," Marco replied with a laugh, referring to the 12 inch 'action figures' of the band.  
"You sure there's not a problem with Dr. Zaius's eyes as well?" Travis asked. "I mean, Les's doll? I know they're all pretty hideous, but Les was in trouble  
before they even cast the thing."  
"Hey, man, DuJour means action figures, and don't you forget it," Marco said.  
Neither Marco nor Travis could be trusted with a car, so it was up to one of the band's bodyguards to drive them to the nearest mall.  
"Alone at last." Marco smiled as they entered the store, followed by three stylists, a personal assistant each, four bodyguards and a representative from MegaRecords.  
Even though the mall had only just opened, it wasn't long before the pair was spotted. In a panic, (after running straight into one another and ending up on the floor) they decided to split up and departed to opposite ends of the store, deciding to meet back for lunch. In the confusion, Travis managed to slip  
another gift into Marco's backpack from his 'secret admirer'.  
Travis had to keep the secret admirer thing going, although he didn't want to totally freak Marco out, thinking that there was a stalker fan after him, leaving him freaky little gifts everywhere. So if he was going to let Marco know, how would he go about it?  
Getting a Travis doll and a Marco doll and leaving them in a compromising position? No, that would be more trouble than it was worth. And it'd probably earn him a punch in the face, too. Writing a song? Nah, he usually wrote the songs with Marco, so that really wasn't an option either. Getting Wyatt to do it was an attractive option, but Travis really didn't fancy having to tell his manager he'd rather take another band mate to bed as opposed to going on stage with  
them.  
As worried as he was about finding the perfect, "Hey, I think I love you" gift, Travis would have been even more worried to find out that, by now, he didn't have to bother.

Marco had found something really cool. A black leather biker jacket. It was so. him. He already had about twelve, but well, a boy could never have too much leather. Except for Travis, who didn't seem to have any other kind of pants. Leather pants were all well and good (and very cool), but didn't the guy own any jeans?  
"Yo, this is just the bomb," Marco told his personal assistant, who just rolled her eyes at the thought of all that heavy leather she'd end up carrying across the mall. "I'm gonna get me that."  
He pulled his DuJour Official Merchandise backpack off and scrabbled around for his wallet.  
"Yo, what's this?" Feeling something strange, Marco pulled the foreign object from his bag and held it up, a confused expression on his face.  
It was a small stuffed monkey, with a little red bandanna on its head. Marco stared at it and pointed a finger at it, and scratched his head, hoping against  
all previous experience that the answer would come to him.  
Surprisingly, this time it did.  
The personal assistant was reading the attached card with a small smile.  
"Well, what's it say?" he asked.  
"Oh, isn't that just the sweetest thing?" she replied, holding a hand to her chest.  
"What?" Marco's patience was waning.  
"Look, Travis got a you a little monkey. See, the card says, 'Now you can take Dr. Zaius everywhere'!"  
The woman smiled. "Isn't that sweet?"  
Marco grabbed the card from her hands. "Woman, this ain't from Travis! It's from my wacked out secret admirer fan." He pointed to the card, which had indeed  
had 'With love from your secret admirer' printed at the bottom.  
The P.A. laughed. "Oh, don't be silly. Of course it was Travis. It's his handwriting."  
Marco peered intently at the card again. "No, it's... how do you know that?"  
"I spend all my waking hours with you boys. Of course I can tell your handwriting apart. And that is definitely from Travis."  
"Travis?" Marco wasn't sure he was hearing right. "As in, my bandmate Travis? Feather boa, top hat, caney thing? My totally straight best friend Travis?"  
The P.A gave him what could only be described as a 'look'. "Yes. That Travis."  
Marco paused. "Are you sure?"  
She sighed. "Yes. I'm sure. And what's with this 'totally straight' thing?"  
"Well," Marco wasn't sure how to start. "Well, of course he is! He's Travis. I mean, just look at him."  
The P.A pulled the latest DuJour single out of her handbag. "I'm looking, Marco, but I don't see anything remotely straight about any of you!"  
Marco looked shocked. "Not even me?" he squeaked.  
The woman got an evil glint in her eyes as she put an arm around her charge and pulled him close. "You know," she whispered. "It's very cool to be gay at the  
moment."  
"It is?" Marco looked bewildered that even one fashion trend had passed him by.  
"Oh, yes," she nodded solemnly. "All the cool stars are doing it. Angelina Jolie, Hugh Jackman, Tom Cruise. You don't want to be left behind, do you?"  
"No!" Marco exclaimed, whining slightly. "I'm cool! I am!"  
"Well, then," the P.A said, crossing her arms. "What are you going to do?"  
It only took him a few seconds to make a decision.

Travis still hadn't found the perfect 'secret admirer' gift when it was time to meet up with Marco for lunch in the food court. Dejectedly, he headed to their prearranged meeting spot, his entourage leading the way.  
"Hey," he greeted his friend slowly.  
However, to Travis' immense shock, instead of their customary elaborate hand slapping and overuse of the term 'word' that usually marked their hellos, Marco  
stood up, squealing, "It's my boyfriend!" rushing towards him with open arms and pursed lips.  
"What are you doing?" Travis asked when he managed to pull away from his friend's mouth.  
"Well, you are my secret admirer," Marco shrugged.  
"And this is your reaction?" Travis asked incredulously.  
"Hey!" said Marco, kissing a bewildered Travis on the lips, before smothering him in a hug. "I'm cool, I'm gay!"  
Feeling safe in Marco's arms and too excited for a food court next to Toys R Us, Travis returned the hug, noticing Marco's P.A winking at him.  
Travis smiled. He'd really have to get Wyatt to give that woman a raise.


End file.
